The Pursuit (A Supernatural Story)
by MeechieNikole
Summary: One moment, one mistake can change everything. Anya will have to decide whether she chooses sanity and love or to be consumed by the pursuit of vengeance.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note_

 _Hello all!_

 _I wanted say thanks for checking out my new story. It's been a minute she's I've written a fanfic but I really think this one will be my best. I also want to give a huge shout out to my co-author, Megera. Though this is my story, I wouldn't be able to get my thoughts across if it wasn't for you. You are an awesome friend. With that said, I hope you all enjoy!_

There was so much blood.

The flow of it was about as rapid and destructive as fire. It covered everything so quickly .

Everything happened so fast.

But Anya just knelt there; her mind, the urgency seemed to slow down. The rapid beating of her heart was deafening

She looked down at her father; he was sprawled out, his eyes covered with a glaze that she was all too familiar with. It was too late.

Even if it wasn't, how would she explain this to the cops?

He was attacked by a grizzly bear, in the middle of a town... that wasn't known for bears. But seeing how ripped up he was, she knew that that would be how they would explain it.

A small tear fell from her face. She took the back of her blood soaked hand and wiped it away.

This was the life of a hunter her father repeated every chance he got. One day you're here, the next you're not. So kill as many of those bastards as you can along the way.

Ever since her mother was murdered by a shapeshifter, she had known about the life. Together, they quenched their thirst for revenge. Or at least tried. As she found out long ago, nothing really satisfied her hunger. No matter how many werewolves or shapeshifters she put silver through- No matter how many vampire's beheaded or corpses she burned, she was never satisfied. And that was what made her and her father some of the best hunters around.

And now... now he was gone. His throat ripped out like an animal and all Anya could do was sit there.

She bolted upright and turned around her, as if coming back to life. She pulled her pistol from her back pocket and pointed into the darkness.

She knew they were gone. She knew that had her father called her sooner, and had she driven just a little faster, it would be that filthy vamp dead on the floor. Not her father. Not the only person she had left.

"I will find you!" Anya growled into nothingness.

She lowered her gun, her ears began to reactivate as her heartbeat slowed and her breathing became more easy.

It was done. He was gone.

She looked back at her father, a low cough erupted from her chest. Her feelings were resurfacing, like someone had taken jumper cables to her limbic system. The cough reached her throat and transformed into sobs. She dropped her pistol with a quick thud and fell to her knees. She crawled through the blood and picked up her father's head and placed it tenderly on her lap. It was almost eerie how young he looked with his features softened. It was almost as if the wrinkles of a hunter's life had disappeared. She had been told that she had her mother's features; big brown eyes, the natural Dominican tan, full lips. And she knew self consciously that she had her father's personality; sarcastic humor, heavy temper, and stubbornness... the same stubbornness that led him to his death.

"Phil... Dad..." she rasped as she rocked back and forth. She gave herself the moment she needed. She sobbed and cursed and sobbed more. She knew that once this moment was over, she would have to continue on. She would have to be strong, to keep moving. So she grasped onto the moment. A hush of determination and understanding fell over her..

Taking in a couple of deep breaths, she kissed him on his forehead, caressed his cheek and placed him delicately back on the floor.

Her clothes drenched in blood, she stood, and reached into her other back pocket for her phone. She began to dial the number to the one person that her father trusted more than anyone- the one person she knew she could count on.

The phone rang for a couple of moments.

"Dean? How many more phones you got, boy?" his voice was gruff and annoyed. He didn't realize who she was. She had gotten a new phone after the ghoul incident, after all.

Anya took in a deep breath.

"Uncle Bobby?"

The sunlight seeped through the unfamiliar curtains and cast a soft, pale halo about the bed as Anya finally stirred.

The small, bed was somewhat of a comfort to her. At least it wasn't a cheap motel like she was used to.

For a split second, she wondered where her father was and fixed her mouth to call out for him, but as she slipped from the realm between sleeping and waking, reality claimed her..

Anya had half the mind to roll over and sink back into the safe numbness of sleep, but she knew that Bobby would be there soon.

When they had spoken last night, he assured her that he was only 10 hours away from where she was, Drayton, North Dakota. Bobby knew exactly where she was; one of many of her father's hideouts.

Her father had once been a prominent banker who had turned from the family hunting business. He'd had the perfect at home wife, and a young daughter whom was destined for Ivy League. But his family's past caught up with him, and no amount of money in the world could change what had happened to the love of his life.

So he spent his money on guns, on defense and training classes for Anya, rare artifacts, and hideouts.

This small cabin was his favorite. Ironically, it was also the place of his final case.

The familiar hunger for the hunt raged within Anya It was strong now than ever. She had lost both parents to monsters.

She ripped the cover from her body and stood. Bobby would be here soon.

She stepped on the hardwood floor and went to the kitchen to start some coffee. She knew Bobby well enough to know that he had driven all night and he would need warm caffine to keep him awake for what was to come.

She then went to the bathroom and showered.

She had showered the night before after cleaning up the blood and miraculously getting her father's body on the bed in the other bedroom, but this shower was more to cleanse her mind.

After allowing the warm water and fully awaken her, she stepped out and dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans, and her favorite gray converses.

Just as she tied the shoelace, a rapid knock came from the door. Anya automatically grabbed her pistol from the nightstand. As she walked towards the door, she placed the gun in her back pocket but kept a grip on it.

She unlocked the door and opened it slightly, peeking through the crack.

Bobby stood before her, looking exactly the same: plaid button down shirt, jeans, and a khakis vest.

Anya felt a wave for gratitude for this familiarity..

"Bobby." she breathed, opening the door the rest of the way.

He didn't speak, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into him.

She closed her eyes and took in his fragrance of whiskey and peppermint.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Anya smiled.

"I-I'm fine." she finally opened her eyes, noticing the two men standing behind Bobby.

Her eyes widened in shock, but Bobby pulled her away from him before she could react. He kept his hands firm on her shoulders.

"Are you sure?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"Y-Yes." she confirmed but her curious eyes wandered behind Bobby.

He followed her eyes and realized that he forgot to mention his guests. He stepped inside and out of the way.

"Anya, this is Dean and Sam Winchester. Family. They've come to... help"

Anaya finally realized who they were. They were somewhat infamous in the hunting community. Actually, Anya's father couldn't stand them. Though Anya had yet to make her final judgement on them. Even with their questionable past, one couldn't deny how incredibly handsome they both were.

"The Winchester Brothers. I've heard of you." She nodded in their directions.

"I'm sure it's been nothing but good things." Dean said with sarcastic humor. Anya glanced at him and they caught eyes. He had the most enticing green eyes that she'd ever seen, much like two small ponds that had seen their fair share of ripples. What personal horrors had caused those ripples? His hair was short and lightly spiked and he had just enough stubble. He was dangerous, Anya could tell that right away.

"We're so sorry for your loss, Anya." Sam said to quickly repair his brother's ill-conceived humor. Sam was much taller with a wider frame, chiseled face structure and longer brown hair. He had a genuine smile of sympathy. .

Anya nodded.

"Please come in. I've made coffee."

The men came fully into the cabin and went straight for the coffee.

Anya hoisted herself up on one of the counters and dangled her legs aimlessly.

There was a moment of silence as everyone made themselves comfortable; Sam sitting at the table and Dean and Bobby standing not to far from it. Anya kept her head down, focusing on the cracks in between the wood on the floor.

"So," Bobby started, "Where is he, Anya?"

Anaya finally looked up and did her best to seem fine when answering Bobby's question.

"The guest room to the right. I-I cleaned everything up. I didn't know who to call. He'd want... a hunter's funeral."

Bobby looked at Sam and Dean.

"I'll go... pay my respects." Bobby took another sip of his coffee, placed it on the table and left the room uttering something between a grunt and a sigh.

There was another bout of silence.

"Anya, I hope you don't mind me asking, but do you know who-or what did this?" Sam asked finally.

"Vamps. There was a nest of 'em not to far from here. Phil got cocky, careless. He went to the nest without me... took 'em all out."

"Wow, a nest usually has like 8 or 9." Dean seemed impressed, or as impressed as he cared to let on.

"Yeah. I was so frustrated with him though. This was a family case. He had asked me to join him and then he just went out there and risked-" she stopped, noticing the slight rise and touch of panic in her voice.

Silence.

She cleared her throat and continued.

"He forgot one. And while I went to put more gas in my car before my drive, it came and ripped his throat out."

"Do you know what this bastard looks like?" Dean asked.

Anya looked up at him.

He was handsome with a natural tan, and a muscular build. But his face was hardened. He had been in this position before. She could see the hunger in his eyes. She knew what that looked like. She felt her hunger drawing to his.

"Medium build, brown eyes, black lengthy hair, and a tattoo on his neck that says Monster."

"That's...ironic." Dean pointed out.

"Wait-how do you know all that?" Sam asked.

It took a moment for Anya to look away from Dean. She turned to his brother.

"I saw him, at the bar in town. He was the link between the women that went missing and the vamps. And when I got home, I caught sight of him before he ran off. I had to check on my dad after I saw him. I didn't have time to go after him-"

"You did the right thing, Anya." Sam reassured.

Anya allowed a small smile to appear.

Bobby finally stepped back into the room.

Anya looked up at him.

"We better go ahead... before..."

He didn't finish. Anya knew what he meant. Before her father's corpse begins to smell.

Anya hopped off of the counter and ran her fingers through her wet hair.

"I'll go grab the wood." Anya stated.

"Dean will go with. Sam and I will... get things ready over here." Bobby offered.

Anya nodded and walked out of the house with Dean not too far behind.

The cabin was surrounded by acres of plains and woods. It was secluded, just the way Phil liked it; perfect for a hunter's funeral.

Anya walked to the shed where her father had kept wood for the fireplace and began to build the pyre.

Dean followed suite.

They both didn't speak for moment. Anya felt that the tension was her fault. She had been so closed off.

"I'm usually a lot more fun than this." Anya blurted and then quickly wished she hadn't spoken.

"You have a reason not to be." Dean reasoned, keeping his back to her.

Anya stopped building and stepped back to watch him. He moved swiftly and with purpose. He was dressed simply, black t-shirt, an opened navy blue button down jacket, and jeans- a hunter's uniform. But, Dean wasn't like other hunters. She knew that from stories. Which is probably why she was so intrigued with the hunger that she read in his eyes. What has Dean Winchester seen? What has he had to do?

Dean stopped and looked up at her questioningly.

"My father didn't care for you two." she blurted again. She didn't understand why she felt the need to say that, but she had to come up with a reason to justify her staring at him.

Dean shrugged and continued his work.

"We get that a lot. I hope he doesn't mind that we're helping with his funeral."

Anya was silent for a moment. She decided to ignore his last statement.

"It wasn't like he hated you two. He just thought you make pig-headed decisions." She reasoned. She watched as he struggled to pick up a larger piece of wood and carefully placed it in position.

"Sounds reasonable."

"Yeah. Well you're a guy, it's what you do." she joked bitterly.

Dean chuckled and looked over at her.

"You are funny."

Anya rolled her eyes but smiled. Dean continued.

"Well I can speak for most guys when I say, the decision always sounds good at first."

Anya smiled a little harder. A tinge of guilt pierced her heart. Her father wasn't even cold yet and she was finding herself being taken by a Winchester.

"Well... I wish you guys would think of hindsight." she muttered, thinking of her father.

Dean, realizing what she really meant, put the final piece of wood in place and stepped back. He looked at her, catching her eyes once again.

"What do you think?" He asked.

"I think it looks great. Who knew the wood he chopped so long ago would come in handy."

Dean smiled and shook his head.

"Thanks, but I meant what do you think about us?"

"I... actually haven't made my decision yet."

They stood and looked at each other for a moment; the log coffin between them.

Sam's voice broke the tension.

"We're ready guys." Sam announced.

Dean looked over at his brother and nodded.

Sam smiled sadly and turned to go back into the house.

Dean walked over to Anya.

"You ready?"

Anya shook her head.

"Do I have a choice?"

Dean patted her shoulder softly and gave her a sad smile.

"We never do."

Anya watched numbly as Sam and Bobby hoisted her father's covered body onto the pyre. They placed him there gently and stepped back to either side of Anya and Dean.

The sounds of birds chirping and the wind whistling set her on edge. Today was such a beautiful day for a terrible nightmare. The contrast was unsettling.

She felt Dean's eyes glance in her direction but she still didn't speak.

"I guess... I guess I'll start us off," Bobby finally spoke, "Phil... I was there when... when this all started. When Diana died... when you were left alone to care for your little girl... when you chose to become a hunter. I remember I thought what an igit you were want to be a part of this... fiasco. But I also knew what it felt like to want revenge. God, I wish I would've listened to my first mind..." he stopped for a moment, swallowed and then continued, "You were one of the best hunters I've had the pleasure of knowing. You were fierce in the work and fierce in loving Anya. You single handedly raised the toughest, smartest, woman to ever be a hunter. You did that, Phil... Y-You will be missed." Bobby stopped while he was ahead and took his baseball cap off respectfully.

Anya knew that it was her turn to speak, Dean and Sam were just there to support Bobby.

She took a deep breath.

"6789 Gritton Road," Anya began. Her words hitched and burned uncomfortably in her throat. She closed her eyes, took a steadying breath and then continued. "That was the last place I called home. I remember when you and mom had me recite our address over and over and over again in case I ever got lost. 6789 Gritton Road . The place I lost my mom... and I lost you in a way. Nothing was the same. I still find myself reciting the old address whenever I'm hunting. 6789 Gritton Road ...," she felt her voice crack. The wind whistled and lightly pushed her jet black hair on her face, "You were a good man, Dad . And you made me the best I could be. Though we weren't normal, we functioned. And I'm grateful. Thank you."

She stopped while she was ahead. Her father knew how much he meant to her. He knew everything she couldn't say.

"Phil-"

Anya was taken back to hear Dean's rugged voice.

"-My brother and I didn't know you... at all. But any friend of Bobby's... has to be one hell of a guy in my book. It's never easy seeing a hunter go. Rest Easy."

Anya stared at her father's body. The numbness of it all was still kind to her, though her limbs felt abnormally cold.

Bobby lit the final piece of wood in his hand and placed it on the altar.

Anya watched as the entrancing flames engulfed her father. Flashes of his body laying around his own blood, stopped her breathing for a moment. The memories were like a flood: the bloodsoaked rags and sheets she had had to burn the night before, the layers of bandage she had to wrap around his neck so that it was actually stable, the heaviness of his body as she dragged him. For a moment she felt lightheaded. In desperation she reached out and gripped the nearest stability she had, Dean's hand.

Her sudden touch surprised him, but he squeezed her hand; willing to be her support.

There was silence that was only interrupted by the whipping cracking of the flames against the altar.

Anya absentmindedly grasped Dean's hand a little tighter as a chill ran up her spine

It was finished.

She inhaled deeply.

They stood there together for about 15 minutes, allowing the growing dimness of the sky to envelop them. After the flames began settle, Anya found no other reason to hold onto Dean. So she regrettably let him go. Her hand falling limply to the side. Dean glancing in her direction, coughed awkwardly and step away from her.

"I think we could all use some grub. Sam and I will go get some." He gestured to his younger brother. Sam nodded and started to walk towards the car.

Dean looked back at Anya. He gave her a wistful smile and she returned it.

When they left to grab lunch. Anya found a comfortable spot on the ground and sat. Something tethered her to her father's remains. Since she hadn't been able save him she knew she couldn't leave him. Not yet.

"He was proud of you, ya know." Bobby said.

Anya looked up at her old friend and smiled at the cold beer he was handing to her.

"Yeah, I know." she grabbed the drink, put the top under her shirt and opened it with a small pop.

Bobby slowly made his way to the ground beside her.

"He had his faults... prideful, stubborn, and crazy vengeful. But you... you were his one accomplishment."

Anya watched as a small amber from the fire fell in front of her.

"I just wish he would've waited on me." She took a long sip of her beer.

"Yeah well... he was a stubborn hunter. Kinda like the two igits I brought with me."

Anya smirked over at him.

"What's their deal anyway? Why did they come?"

Bobby shrugged his shoulders and took a swig of his beer before speaking.

"They were with me when you called."

"You spend a lot of time with the Winchesters?"

"More than I should, I reckon."

"Then why do you?" Anya asked pointedly. She turned a little so that she was face to face with him.

Bobby was silent for a moment. He took another swig and shook his head.

"Those are my boys. For better or for worse. I love 'em like they were my own... a lot like how I love you." He held his beer out and Anya tapped the top his with hers.

"Well, from what I've heard, they get into some serious situations."

"Well, those boys have saved the world more times than I can count. And those serious situations couldn't be handled by any other hunter."

Anya raised her free hand in submission.

"I understand. I actually have nothing against them. They came and paid respect to a man they didn't even know. They are amazing in my book."

Bobby let out a sigh.

"I worry about them all the time. I worried about you to but your dad had you. Now... I get to worry about you too."

"Don't worry about me Bobby. I'm gonna be just fine. I'm gonna get the bastard that did this to my dad. And all will be fine."

"You know as well as I do that it's never that easy."

No it wasn't. Anya knew that. But she was feeling recklessly brave. Without another word, Anya rose to her feet and dusted off her bottom with one hand while chugging what was left of the beer with her other.

A low rumble grew as Sam and Dean arrived with the late lunch.

It wasn't until then that Anya realized just how hungry she was. She smiled gratefully as she walked up to the approaching Impala.

The car slowed to a stop and the guys climbed out with their hands full of bags.

"Hey guys." Anya stood in front of the both, one of her fingers gripping onto the inside of her empty bottle as it dangled by her side.

"You seem a little more... cheerful." Dean pointed out as he placed the bag in his hand on the hood of the car. He didn't hesitate to rummage through it.

Anya smirked.

"I'll be whatever you want. You brought me food."

Dean looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. He stopped rummaging through the bag and pulled out something wrapped in plastic.

"Well then you're gonna love me." he challenged. He threw the item to her and she caught it with ease with her free hand.

She looked at the label and her smirked turned into a half smile.

"Best fried pies in North Dakota. That one's apple." Dean said.

"Dean..." Anya looked up at him.

Bobby finally approached behind her.

Dean looked at Anya, then Bobby, then Sam. Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"What, you don't like pie?" He asked shocked.

Anya shook her hand.

"I love pie. The only thing that would make it even better is if you had a cheeseburger in that bag too." She chuckled as she turned to go back into the cabin; leaving Dean with a look of awe and admiration.


	2. The Pursuit - Chapter 2

_Author's Note_

 _Hey guys! Yes I'm posting chapter 2 within hours of chapter 1. I am actually finished through chapter 3 so I wanted to give you all another taste of the story. I hope you all enjoy!_

 _Special thanks to Megera!_

* * *

The cheeseburger was exactly what Anya needed. Licking the last drops of grease off her fingertips, she had no shame in eating every last bite.

When everyone finished their meals, they filed into the living room.

The room was set like many of Phil's hideouts: spacious, wooden flooring and complete with a gaping fireplace. Dean and Bobby were sprawled out on the couch facing the fireplace and Sam sat on the loveseat next to the fireplace, taking the place in, while Anya opted to sit on the floor.

"So how many of these cabins does your father own?" Sam wondered aloud , still examining the room, down to the last crack in the wall.

"Several," Anya followed Sam's eyes across the room. "He was as big on his privacy as he was with his secrets."

"Well, it seems like a normal cabin to me." Dean pointed out.

Anya turned to him.

"Of course it does." she smiled mischievously and stood. She slipped out of her converses and walked barefoot on the creaking wood to the bookshelf that was on the far side of the room.

"You're kidding." Sam said as she halfway pulled a particular book from the shelf.

The shelf made a distinct pop sound.

"No way." Dean let out.

"Way." Bobby said gruffly.

All Anya could do was turn back to the boys and smile.

She flipped the shelf around and the other side was revealed.

Hunting gear.

Everything from michettes and several types of pistols and shotguns, to crosses.

Dean immediately bolted up from his seat; his mouth in the shape of an 'O'.

"It's like...an episode of Scooby-Doo!"

Sam just kind of stared at Dean.

"Well, I mean with less creeps in costumes and more badass ghost hunting crap," he finished lamely, clearing his throat and adjusting his jacket.

Then he looked at Anya.

"You're dad… was awesome." He said simply.

Anya shook her head and stepped back so that Dean could fully see the stash. Sam got up as well.

Dean took one the michettes from its holster and practice his swing in slow motion.

"So you're dad has a stash of weapons in every hideout?" Sam walked over and admired the guns.

"Kind of. Some have reliques and ancient items. Have no idea where he got them from though."

Sam jerked to face her.

"That's… insane. You've got to show me some time."

Anya just smiled, happy that they liked her enough to think of a "next time."

"Alright boys, don't get your panties in a twist." Bobby said standing.

Dean stopped and Sam turned.

Everyone was looking at Bobby now. And Bobby was looking at Anya.

"So, are we gonna pretend that our conversation out there didn't happen?" Bobby asked.

Anya's face remained unreadable. She knew Bobby would bring this up again. She knew that his silence during lunch had been due to her announcement while they were outside. She waited.

"After you left…. I knew in an instant that he wouldn't want the same fate for you, Anya. It's just plain stupid for to think that you can go out and find some vamp and not get yourself hurt."

Dean set the michettes down and stepped in between the two.

"Wait, what?" Dean looked from Bobby to Anya.

Anya stayed stubborn, her mouth drew a thin line and she crossed her arms.

Dean decided to speak again.

"No. Nope, not a good idea." he shook his head and rested his hands on his waist.

Anya's eyes shot to him.

"I don't recall asking for permission from any of you." she said lowly.

Sam then stepped forward.

"We're not trying to control you, Anya. It's just… he could be anywhere by now. He could've found another nest. And what would you do then?"

"Improvise."

"That's the same bullheaded talk that has your father's corpse in ashes in his own backyard!" Bobby shouted.

Everyone looked at Bobby in surprise. But his eyes were fiercely glued to Anya. He wasn't backing down, and by the looks of it, neither was she.

She took one large step forward so that she and Bobby were face to face. She swallowed any quivering that vibrated in her throat.

"Screw you." she said said clearly and stingingly.

With that, she turned on her heel and headed to her room, slamming the door behind her.

"Well that went well." Dean sighed, running a hand over his short hair as Bobby went back to the couch and shrunk down to the seat.

He covered his face with his hands and hunched over.

"So she wants to… find the thing that killed her father. Sounds familiar." Sam attempted weakly..

Dean turned to his brother.

"That was different-"

"Why? Because we're men and she's a woman?" Sam interrupted.

"-Because she's alone, Sammy. We had each other at least." Dean finished.

"You sure that's the reason you're hesitant, Dean?" Sam gave him a look.

Dean crossed his arms defensively.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means, man." Sam said dismissively.

"No, no. I don't know, Sam. Enlighten me-"

"Dean, you've been ogling her since we got here." Sam accused.

Dean, uncomfortably acted as if he didn't know what his younger brother was talking about.

But it was true. When he first saw her, he was attracted on a normal Dean-ish level. She was gorgeous; petite, curvy stature, exotic caramel skin, wild curly hair. But the more time he spent with her, the more it wasn't just about her looks. Besides,he knew Bobby would rip him apart if he tried anything. Bobby had already said that she was like a daughter to him, afterall.

Dean instinctively turned to Bobby who was eyeing him suspiciously.

Awkwardly, Dean laughed it off.

"H-He's joking." he waved off the thought.

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Either way," Bobby began, deciding to ignore Dean completely,"I can't let her go off and do something that's gonna get her killed."

Both men were silent in thought.

Then Sam's head shot up.

"I have an idea."

Anya paced around her room for a minute before setting her arms on the window pane. She had always been a somewhat simple girl. Even when she was younger and her father stressed that she make the most of their life by adding decorations to her rooms, but she didn't know what to do with it. All she knew she wanted was a window, just in case life got too hard. She had always been able to sneak off late at night and meet with the occasional friends she would make as they crossed from town to town. She knew it would've been easy to just slip into the night and live a different life, but she had stuck through it all. Through the nights when her father wouldn't come home, or when he would find his peace and the bottom of a bottle after a really hard case.

Through it all. She never left.

Her sweaty hands clenched on the dusty window pane, coating her hands with a sticky grime as a sickening feeling in her stomach slowly began creep throughout the rest of her body..

The knock on her door flung her back into reality. She whipped her head around, ready to take on her intruder.

Dean poked his head through.

"Hey, uh, can we talk?" He actually seemed nervous, maybe even a little concerned. Is this the Dean Winchester her father had told her about? Those stories became less and less believeable with each passing moment.

Anya turned her head to face out the window again, feigning disconcern. She heaved in a deep sigh and released with a nod.

Dean stepped in and closed the door behind him.

Anya turned and sat against the window pane with her hands on either side of her.

"Bobby still butt hurt?" she seethed.

"Hey now, Bobby's just worried about you. We all are."

Anya let out a snort.

"You don't even know me."

"Yeah, maybe not. But I know Bobby and anyone he cares about this much must be worth it."

Anya stopped and eyed him. He was as handsome as he was strong willed. He cared about Bobby, just as she did.

"What do you want, Dean?" She sounded tired.

"To help."

Anya waited for the follow up. Dean continued.

"You wanted to find the son of a bitch that killed your father. Been there, done that. I'm all for it."

Anya stood up a little.

"You are?" she asked a little surprised.

"Hell yeah. That bastard needs to pay and no one deserves the right to chop his head off more than you."

Anya smiled. The hunger began to rage again inside her. She swallowed its bitterness.

"-So we'll leave first thing in the morning."

Anya's smile faded.

"We?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes. You, me, and Sammy."

"You've got to be…. NO!" Anya shouted.

Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Anya tried to ignore how his muscles flexed.

"Why not?"

"Because! I don't know you two! You come into my house and just think you can tell me what to do? Like I'm gonna be the sidekick to the Winchesters? I've heard about your sidekicks! Where are they now?"

"Look, would you calm down," Dean tried to reason, ignoring the twinge of pain Anya's last question caused. "It's nothing like that. You're looking for a guy who doesn't want to be found. Who is probably shacked up in another nest as we speak. You think I would want to take on that many by myself? There's safety in numbers."

Anya was silent for a moment; embarrassed by her outburst. Dean did nothing to deserve that reaction. But was it really her fault that she was on edge? She wasn't equipped to handle all this pressure.

"Besides," Dean added, "If I recall we did a little more than come to your house."

Anya sighed and ran her fingers through her jet black hair. She then looked up at Dean who was studying her intently. She suddenly felt self conscious.

"Ok." She whispered, not taking her eyes off him. He didn't look away either.

"Ok? What does that mean."

Anya bit her lower lip.

"It means… ok… I'll… team up with you."

Dean held up his hands playfully.

"Don't do us any favors." He joked.

She absentmindedly hit him and laughed.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm not usually this… explosive-"

"Hey, you've got every reason. Besides, you haven't seen Sammy on a bad day. He's hell. I mean that as literally as I possibly can. The whole Lucifer deal….." he trailed off noticing the look of confusion and amusement causing a slight crinkle around Anya's eyes. She was trying not to laugh. Dean cleared his throat casually and tried for a smile.

Jeez was he handsome.

"How will we find him though?" she asked.

"You remember what he looks like, right?""I could never forget."

"Well, we've won with less. We'll find him. And I'll leave the ass kicking to you. Now, let's grab a beer or five."

She smiled as Dean turned to leave. She followed but not before turning and taking a long thoughtful look at her window of escape.

* * *

It was hard to be quiet with the cabin resting in dead silence.

It was 4 a.m. and the sky was still blanketed in night air as Anya tip toed across the room. She pushed as many clothes into her duffel bag as she could. It seemed so surreal that she was attempting to do the very thing that she had never been able to do after all these years.

She was running away.

But was it really running away? She was, after all, extremely grown. Would it be politically correct to say that a 26 year old was running away?

She didn't know or care. She did know a couple of things though.

She was a loner. Her father had been the same. Which was why they worked so perfectly together. But now that he was gone, she couldn't see herself working alongside other hunters.

She wanted to do this herself. It was a strong fit of pride that anchored her to leaving. She had to avenge her father, and the only way to fully avenge him was to do it completely and totally on her own.

She liked Dean. She had been drawn to him from the very beginning, andshe was almost positive he felt the same tether. And she knew more than anyone that any type of feelings would lead to disaster. Whether it be her ending or his. Besides, she wasn't ready to pursue or strengthen any feelings if they were to go on this case together.

She was great a running from her problems. She'd done it all her life. And the Winchesters… Bobby…. theywere a problem.

Anya pressed her hand to the doors and slowly opened it with the other. She peeked through the door and saw Dean and Sam sleeping on the couch and loveseat. She was sure that Bobby was in the other guest room. She gazed at the two brothers for a moment.

Despite her father's beliefs, Anya realize how good they were from just one afternoon. They may have made mistakes, but they showed up with Bobby. They were willing to risk their lives to help Anya get her vengeance.

As she closed the door again, she realized the 5th thing she knew. She couldn't risk anyone else's life for something she had to do. She had lost her father and refused to lose these three, too. She'd only just met the Winchesters and they had already done and offered to do so much for her. Risking their lives at this point would be just damn selfish. No more blood would be spilled on her behalf.

Anya grabbed her short, black leather jacket and slipped on her converses. With a small push, she lifted the window with only a little squeaking in the process. She reached for her duffel bag and tossed it out the window.

She then crossed one leg over the window. Taking one last look at the closed door and quietly thanking the new friends she'd made, she crossed the other leg over and hop out. The drop was barely 3 feet so she felt the ground almost immediately. She then turned and closed the window back.

Grabbing her duffel bag, she quietly jogged to her car, her father's 1970 Dodge charger. She climbed in and started it.

It took a minute for her to put it into gear. She sat and stared forward. She saw the pyre were her father's ashes were. The pyre that, after 6 beers, she sat and spoke to deep into the late hours. She had told her father of her plans to leave. Of her past wishes to. She told him everything that she had been afraid to tell when he was alive. Now, she could drive away and let all the regret she had had would flow away behind her.

She reversed the car and spun it until it faced away from the house. And with one last look in the rearview mirror, she sped off, leaving nothing but dust in her wake.

Dean woke with a start. Though he was a little disoriented, his ears had always been spot on, even when he was asleep. Definitely a trait he got from his father.

This time, he knew he had heard the screeching of tires. He stood and wiped his eyes, mentally trying to conclude what the noise could've been.

He looked over at Sam, fast asleep in the loveseat. It was almost humorous how a giant like him was trying to fit in that small loveseat. But Dean had won rock, paper, scissors fair and square. Sam was doomed to the loveseat. Though in all honesty, Dean would've let Sam have the couch if he could've gotten Anya to share her bed with him.

A mischievous grin appeared on his half-asleep face.

Damn she was beautiful… and feisty. Dean couldn't help but be attracted to that. He saw a lot of himself in her. Her hunger for vengeance, her sarcastic humor, her love of… pies. Her body was curvy but in shape, her lips were full, and her smile, despite how rarely she showed it, was stunning. Yes, she was beautiful… She was…

Dean's eyes widened….His focus finally went back to the sound that had awoken him.

Screeching tires.

"Shit." Dean hissed as he ran to her room. He burst through the door and, just as he'd feared, Anya was nowhere to be found.

A feeling of betrayal and disappoint formed in the pit of his stomach.

He turned and slammed the door shut. She tricked him. She had planned to leave as soon as she said 'ok'.

"That little… Sam get up!" Dean shouted slapping his brother on the shoulder.

Sam snorted and jerked awake.

He looked everywhere and then at his older brother as he rushed to put his shoes on.

"Dean… what's?-"

"Anya. She's gone." He grumbled.

Sam sat up further and looked at his phone that was on the coffee table. It was 4:30 in the morning. No wonder his mind wasn't computing.

"W-What?" Sam asked again standing up. He was confused on what to do.

"She's gone Sammy! Wake Bobby, I'm going after her."

"Dean…" Sam tried to reason.

Dean grabbed his phone and began searching for his keys.

"Swear to God if she took my keys-" Dean grumbled as he searched frantically.

"Dean!"

"WHAT?" Dean jerked around to his brother.

"She's gone, Dean. Where do you think you're gonna find her? She's a hunter. Once she's gone, she'll know how to make sure we don't find her." Sam reached in his pocket and pulled out the keys that Dean had forgotten he'd given to him.

Bobby then opened the door to his room.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Bobby asked sleepily.

"She's gone, Bobby." Dean admittedly guilty.

Bobby looked at both boys and then looked at Anya's door.

"Balls!" Bobby shouted shutting the door to get dressed.

Dean followed suit and grabbed his wallet off of the coffee table.

Sam, calmly ran his hands through his hair.

Bobby hopped out of the bedroom, trying to put his right shoe on.

"Guys! She's gone!" Sam shouted finally.

Bobby and Dean stopped. Bobby finally got his shoes on and, enraged, walked up to Sam.

"What did you say, boy?"

Sam looked around and sighed.

"Look, Bobby, I know that she's like a daughter to you and everything but…." He sighed again, "She's a big girl. And she's made her decision. She doesn't want our help. And we can't force her to."

"Sam, she has no idea what she's up against-" Dean started.

"She's a hunter Dean. Has been for years. And I know you think that it was different because we had each other, but what if we hadn't? What if it had just been you to go against the demon that killed dad or mom? You think you would've stopped just because there's 'safety in numbers'?" Sam reasoned.

Dean shook his head incredulously.

"I don't care, Sam. Because there IS power in numbers! I know it, you know it, she knows it, those freaking bloodsuckers know it and they sure as hell aren't gonna let her forget it!" He was grasping at every piece of logic he could, his worry bleeding through his anger. "It's too early to lose her, Sam!" He shut up, trying to ground himself. He'd gone overboard. Stop it, Dean. Stop...

"She's made her decision guys," Sam said softly, taking in a very lost-looking Dean. "I mean we could try tracking. With Cass, I'm sure it wouldn't be impossible, but the decision was ultimately-

Bobby looked out the window, defeat overcoming him.

"She made a igit decision." he grumbled.

Dean looked at Bobby in surprise.

"So… you're ok with this all of a sudden?!" Dean shouted.

Bobby quietly snarled.

"What would you suggest we do, boy? Track her on the GPS we don't have or cross every inch of this world trying to find a hunter that doesn't want to be found?"

"You heard what Sammy said about Cass!" Dean snarled, falling into unfocused rage again. .

"In case you HAVEN'T noticed, your little winged boyfriend hasn't exactly been quick to respond to any of your other little calls, so yeah! Cass will make all of this right!" Bobby was used to matching Dean tit-for-tat when his temper got the better of him, but the boy was grasping at invisible straws.

"I just pray to God she knows what she's getting into," Bobby rubbed his head and turned to go back to the bedroom, "I'm glad she got away from you anyways, loverboy." Bobby called from behind his back.

Sam looked over at Dean and tried not to laugh.

Dean looked around guiltily and crossed his arms.

"W-what in the hell is that supposed to mean, huh?!"


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello all! Big thanks for reading! I just want to ask that you all PLEASE comment and tell me what you think. It's definitely motivation for me to keep writing. Though I want to get this story out, it helps knowing others are excited to see how this unfolds as well. Also, this story is in no order with the tv series. There may be some aspects of the series story that I will use. But for now, the storyline is definitely all in my head. I hope you guys enjoy! don't forget to comment._

* * *

 **1 year later**

"Shit…." Anya hissed, slamming the bottle of whiskey down. She recklessly wiped her mouth with the back of her right arm.

The other was resting on the table with fresh stitches across the upper region.

That banshee had been a bitch.

Anya wasn't a fan of big gashes and lots of blood; which was semi ironic since she had the bloodiest job ever. She almost gagged giving herself stitches.

She took another swig of whiskey and swallowed through gritted teeth.

Truth be told she didn't care for brown liquor, but she knew that the quicker it settled in her, the less pain she would feel.

She sat the bottle down and allowed the alcohol to take effect as her surroundings blurred. She was in another run down motel of a small town in southern Indiana. She had made a habit of hopping from place to place for a while now. She learned a while ago that the more she keeps moving, the less time she has to think.

With much effort, she rose and stumbled to the bed. She fell back making sure to land on her good arm only.

The ceiling had strange yellow spots and she could hear the knocking of the bed from the room next to her.

"Glad someone's having fun." She mumbled.

She sighed.

It had been a year today since her father had been murdered. A whole year and she wasn't any closer to finding the dirty vamp that killed him. For 7 months she tracked him, keeping to his trail and chopping as many vamp heads as she could. But every time she found a new lead, it would come to a dead end.

Whoever this vampire was, he knew exactly what he was doing. Just as he had known the effects of killing a hunter.

Anya's mind wandered to Dean and Sam Winchester, as it did every now and then. Sometimes she wondered if they had ever attempted to find her. After she ran, she spent weeks watching her back. Part of her wanted to be as far from them as possible; but another part wished that they would turn the corner or just appear.

Truth be told, she missed companionship. Of course, she had had her occasional one-night stands with the average brute she would find in a local bar. Once, she even slept with the police officer that helped her with a case. Of course, his quick infatuation with her led to his stupidity and demise… but the sex had been amazing.

Anya smiled bitterly. Had the past year made her that brutal? That insensitive?

She felt different, truth be told.

Her thoughts were halted by the buzzing of her phone on the nightstand.

Anya groaned, closed her eyes and reached for the phone the best she could without disturbing her injured arm. Finally, after a struggle she grabbed her phone and looked at the caller I.D.

It was Bobby.

Anya had spoken to him twice since she left.

The first time was a screaming match. The second one was a little more civilized.

Anya pressed the green button on her phone and silently wondered what this conversation would be like.

"Bobby. How's it hanging." She said as coolly as she could. The alcohol hadn't done its job completely.

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Just obliterated a freakin' banshee so I'm doing super." Anya sat up and rested against the wall. She could know _feel_ the bed rocking against her wall.

"Banshee, huh? By yourself?"

"I've been by myself for a year now Bobby. Don't sound so surprised," she slurred, playing connect-the-dots with the yellow stains on the ceiling. Ah, now the liquor was in full swing. She was feeling pretty good at the moment.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"So how are things on your end? You sound alive so that's good."

Bobby sighed."Things are… interesting. The boys keep me youthful, I'll say that much."

Anya waited, wanting to hear more. She knew that the Winchesters were always up to some wild adventures. But Bobby didn't give any more details.

"I'm glad you're still kicking, ol' man. What can I do you for? Erm...do for you?" she sputtered and then tittered a little. "You usually call either to yell at me or tell me what a strong independent woman I am." she smirked.

"How about you stop being a smart ass"

"Sorry, sorry. What's up?" said Anya, attempting to recover. _Common, Anya. Serious voice now._

"There's a case I need you to handle in North Carolina."

Anya stood.

"Case, huh? What kind?"

"Your favorite. Haunted house. So far 3 teens have gone missin'. They were last seen goin' into that house on a dare."

"And your precious boys can't take it."

Bobby was silent.

"They're… uh… busy."

"Doing….?"

"If it was your business I would tell ya, igit."

Anya laughed out loud.

"Easy Bobby. I got you. Let me get some sleep, rest this arm, and I'll leave first thing in the morning. Should take no more than 10 hours to get there."

"Your arm? What happened to it?"

"Banshee caught me while I was doing my figure skating routine. I'm fine. I'll call you when I make it."

"Damn you. Goodnight."

"Love you too, Bobby."

Anya hung up and laid back on her bed.

Her thoughts rushed through her mind rapidly. Why didn't Bobby handle the case in North Carolina? What _were_ the boys up to?

And of course, her mind slipped to Dean. He probably hated her now. She knew she deserved it. But a part of her almost yearned to see him again; even if it was on bad terms. It didn't matter much though, Anya had been so promiscuous the last year, she knew she could get rid of this Winchester funk if she really wanted to.

She had been very humble about her looks before, when he father was alive. But she relished in the advantage it gave her.

No, Anya didn't need to worry about Dean Winchester. Besides, she'd probably never see him again anyway.

Anya left Indiana at 4 in the morning and headed straight for the coordinates that Bobby had texted her. After about ten and a half hours Anya drew out a thankful breath as she passed the road sign she'd been waiting for.

Welcome to Hope Mills, North Carolina

As soon as the sign disappeared behind her, Anya flipped open her phone and dialed Bobby.

He answered on the first ring.

"Bout time." he gruffed.

"Good to hear from you too. So do we know what we're dealing with?"

"Ghost probably. Don't know all the info but a landscaper went missing early this morning. I'm sure you can be filled in at the scene."

Anya secret wondered how Bobby could possibly know something about a case that _just_ happened. But she wasn't in the mood to hear his mouth. She was exhausted and wanted to stretch her legs.

"Sounds good. I'll go freshen up and be there in 30."

"Good. 443 Dick Street." the phone clicked instantly.

Somewhat surprised at Bobby's abrupt exit, Anya looked at phone.

"Old coot." she tossed her phone at the passenger's seat and pulled into first motel she came to, The Larange Motel.

Anya grabbed her belongings, locked her car, and walked into the front desk.

An older lady, reading an issue of Cosmopolitan, sat at the run down desk.

The room was small and had a dingy smell to it; a smell that Anya was all too familiar with. The walls were coated with old wallpaper that was rolling up at the edges. The life of a hunter was by no means glamorous.

Anya walked up to the desk and sat her duffel bag down.

The older woman paid her no attention. Her wrinkled fingers grasped onto the magazine harder. Though Anya could not see the right of her face, she saw the tower of cotton candy pink hair that stretched much higher than it should.

Anya coughed deliberately followed by an 'Excuse me'.

Finally, the woman dropped her magazine and stared.

"Yeah?"

"I'd like a room, please."

"74.50 a night."

"That's fine."

"How many nights."

"I'll let you know. I can cover first night now."

Without a word, the woman held out her hand.

Anya smiled fakely and dug into her pocket for a card. She then slammed it on the counter. After an intense stare, the woman pulled the card towards her, being careful to only use her fingertips, and slid it on the register.

She placed the card back on the counter and turned to grab a key.

"Room 105 on the left side from the pool area. Housekeeping comes once a day, but they ain't ya mother." With that, she picked up her magazine and continued reading.

"...right.." Anya said blankly with a tight smiled, grabbed her things and left.

She walked towards the pool and turned left. Room 105.

She unlocked the door and was welcome to a familiar, used and abused atmosphere.

She tossed her bang on the bed and quickly pulled out her FBI uniform. She knew she would have to iron quickly if she wanted to get to the scene before the investigators left.

After ironing and putting on her suit, she slipped on her black formal heels, and clipped her badge to her jacket pocket. She put her pistol inside the back of her pants and clipped a small knife to the inside of her right thigh .

She then grabbed her i.d., keys, and credit card and dashed out of the door.

It didn't take long too for her to find which house on Dick Street that Bobby was referring to. A small crowd of pedestrians and reporters were circled around the large group of investigators in a big area in front of a large older home.

It was a white, plantation style house, definitely built before the civil war.

"Definitely ghost or ghoul." Anya mumbled as she slowed her car to a stop across the street.

She quickly pulled half of her curly hair up to look more professional, added aviators for effects, and stepped out.

She calmly placed her hands in her pants pockets and made her way through the crowd of reporters. When she finally reach the front, a police officer's hand stopped her.

Anya, unbothered, tapped on the badge hanging from her jacket. The police officer nodded and allowed her to pass.

This was probably Anya's favorite part. Not only did it show how masterful she was with faking i.d's but it also showed how flawed the law system was to not ask any questions.

She went to the one man that was barking orders to the other officers. He had to be the ring leader.

She stepped up to him and tapped on her badge once again.

"Agent Sikes with the FBI. Wanna explain why you got a town full of missing people?" she asked curiously.

Clearly she had struck a nerve. But the detective's apparent flench didn't keep him from responding.

"I don't know. The landscaper called to report that someone was following him. When the responding unit got here, there were just drops of blood. The trail stopped halfway towards the house." the detective thumbed behind him to where the house was.

"And that's all you got so far, huh?"

"3 young men have already gone missing from taking a stupid dare."

"Dare?"

The detective sighed and rubbed his temple.

"Yes. A dare to stay in the house overnight. A trespassing violation."

"Now why would they want to spend the night at an old house?" Anya asked, curious about the detective's response.

He shrugged.

"It's supposed to be haunted. You know how kids come up with legends and myths. Two of the three boys were foster kids and were flight risks anyways."

Anya could tell with ease that the detective was trying to come to a sane conclusion for why so many people were missing on his watch.

A ghost wouldn't sustain this guy's conscience.

"Well thank you. I'll just… take a look around." Anya nodded and allowed him half a smile.

"Sure… sure…" then he paused, "I mean, I understand that we may have something serious going on. But did that really merit _three_ agents?"

Anya, though surprised to the core, kept her face blank.

"Apparently so. Where are they, by the way?"

The detective stepped back and pointed back toward the house.

Though it was some distance, Anya could make out the backs of two males walking into the home. One much taller than the other with neck length hair.

 _No way._

Anya stepped forward and squinted; watching until the two men disappeared into the house.

"Is that all?" The detective asked impatiently.

All Anya could do was nod as her feet carried her towards the house.

 _It couldn't be._

Anya looked around her as she walked closer; looking for some sort of confirmation. And it came to her with the heaviness of concrete.

To her left, parked across the street, almost adjacent to her car that was parked to the right of her, was a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

"You've got to be fucking me." Anya hissed as her feet moved fast to close the gap between her and the Winchesters.

After she got through the larger than life front yard, she carefully climbed the stairs to the porch and opened the door to the house.

As soon as she stepped inside, Anya knew that the house had been the pillar of fortune in its day. The foyer was wide and spacious, dark maple wooden stairs rose to the second floor. The white marbled floor was so clean that she could see her own reflection. The antique furnishings in the room were magnificent.

Her admiration halted as she heard whispering a from around the corner. She followed the sounds through another plush hallway, past the dining room and into the kitchen.

Sam and Dean stood, back towards her, discussing amongst themselves.

Before she moved to interrupt them, Anya listened intently to their conversation.

"So we're definitely thinking ghost here." Dean clarified.

Sam nodded

"I mean the families that have lived here before it was a museum dates back hundreds of years. It's definitely a possibility."

"So now we just find out who's snatching up these guys. Find the M.O, find the corpse. Burn the crap out of it. Rock n' Roll." Dean snapped his fingers.

"Unless the ghost was cremated. Then we have another issue altogether." Anya spoke quickly in case her voice gave out on her.

The boys swirled around in surprise. But no face could compare to the ones they made when they saw it was Anya.

The one second of silence drug on like 10 hours to Anya.

"Fancy meeting you here." Anya said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Dean's stare was stone cold. Sam noticed as well and decided to break the awkwardness.

"Anya!" His voice squeaked with surprise.

Anya heaved in a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Bobby sent me this case-"

"Well that's funny case he sent _us_ this case." Dean interrupted.

Though she feel the salty burn of his bitterness, it was still so good to hear his voice again. To see his face….

"I think we've been bamboozled, gentlemen." Anya rested her elbow on the counter in front of the men.

Without another word, Dean pulled out his phone and turned his back to her. Sam gave her a small, reassuring smile.

"Bobby what the hell." Dean attempted to whisper.

Anya stood up. Both her and Sam's eyes were on Dean.

"Yeah…. I see what you did…. Bobby, Sam and I could work this alone…. No…. Yeah she's here, but…." Dean paused. He turned to glance at Anya and turned back around.

"Yes….sir…. I know I did, but….. Uh huh. Ok. Ok fine." Dean clicked off his phone and turned back to face them.

He looked at Sam, heaved in a sigh and finally laid eyes on Anya.

For a moment it was tense, awkward. But at some point they rested in the familiarity of curiousness with one another. Dean broke the stare, coughed and subconsciously tugged at his pants.

"Bobby...uh, double booked us. So, we're working together."

Anya, recently quick to refute any feelings that may surface, shot back at him.

"You think you can handle that, Winchester?" She suddenly regretted her reaction. She knew that she had just set the pace of their already broken friendship.

Dean cocked his head to the side; itching to be tried.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His once cautious stare was melting into hostility. It was too late now, and Anya had a defensive nature.

"It means you've been a little butt hurt since you saw my face. Anything we need to work out?"

Dean chuckled angrily and forced himself to look down.

Sam seeing the hostility, stepped in between them.

"Why don't we focus on the case, guys?"

"You are a real piece of work, you know that?" Dean ignored his younger brother's peace offering. He had seemingly waited a while for this moment.

Anya was glad. She wasn't the type let issues fester and boil over. She much preferred taking the heat in the moment.

"Am I really?-"

"Damn right you are. What makes you think we'd wanna work within 10 feet of you after the stunt you pulled?" He asked.

Anya let out a hearty laugh.

"Stunt? I _left_ because I'm _grown._ You met me a couple of hours before and you assume I owed you an explanation?!"

"We _helped_ you, you self righteous, little-"

"Guys!" Sam rose his hands in surrender, "Not here." He pleaded.

Anya was too steamed to listen she stepped around the counter and closer to Dean.

"You help me once. I don't owe you anything." She hissed through a smile.

Dean coughed out a bitter laugh and shook his head.

"What's so funny?" She inquired.

He looked down for a long time.

"You must really be messed up in the head."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"That fact that you think they I-we're upset over something you _owe_ us. I mean, how many friends do you have?"

None. She had none. She cowered into silence. Dean continued, looking into her eyes.

"It wasn't about you owing us anything. Your dad died, I know how that feels. Even with you acting like…. _this_ , I would still do it over again. Not because of anyone oweing anything but because that would be the right thing to do. And I thought we had built a some sort of relationship from that. One that entails a little honesty."

Shit. Anya sucked in some air. She had no response. Dean, surprisingly, had a point. She'd expected yelling, name calling, silence even. But not this: talk of friendship, relationships and feely stuff. She wanted to out-macho him, but she hadn't expected it to be this easy or for it to happen this way.

"I-I was fine." She muttered.

Dean looked over at Sam in defeat. He then walked passed Anya without another word leaving Sam and her alone.

After he heard the door close, Sam finally spoke.

"He'll get over it." He resolved.

Anya put one hand on her hip and turned the direction Dean had just been.

"I've given him a year to get over it," she whispered. "A year...to get over what, exactly? He barely knew me. We barely knew EACH OTHER!"

Sam shrugged.

"Maybe a year wasn't enough."

Anya shot a look at him. Sam hada knowing look on his face and with a small smile, he left as well.

Anya returned to her car. As she slid into the familiar leather seats, she exhaled.

Sam and Dean were here. Dean.

He was still handsome and had allowed a little stubble to grow which didn't help the cause. He hated her now though and she couldn't quite blame him.

She'd been a bitch.

Why?

Why did she always let her mouth get the best of her?

Granted she did make valid points, but those guys were 2 of the 3 people that helped her when her father was murdered. She did owe them an explanation as to why she just up and left. Maybe she didn't give an explanation because she didn't want to or because she couldn't.

Hell, maybe she didn't have a good enough explanation to give even herself. Why _did_ she do it? Because she was a "lone wolf?" Stupid. Because she "only worked alone?" Given the nature of what she was hunting, also stupid. Because she didn't want to see them -especially Dean- hurt? Justifiable, but there had to have been a better way to do it. A way that wouldn't have made Dean hate her so much...

Anya rested her head on the seat.

Still, though she could count on one hand the amount of hours her and Dean had spent together, she felt more connected to him that any guy she'd ever dated or slept with. And, for a moment, she was sure he saw it too.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. She digged into her pocket.

"Bobby." She stated as she flipped open the phone.

"I see you ran into the boys." He said gruffly

"What the actual hell Bobby?" She sighed rubbing her hands against her face.

"Look, ya'll are gonna work together to get this damn ghost got. I'm sick of hearing about what was done wrong and who did it. So a case should do you both some good."

"Just in case you were wondering, you're not Oprah. I don't need your help with relationships."

"Oh yeah? You sound just like him. Both of you stubborn, pigheaded brats."

Anya was going to ask who was the 'he' that he was referring to but she knew the answer.

She sighed.

"What am I supposed to do? He doesn't want to talk to me."

"Jeez you'll figure it out! I'm not Oprah!" And with a click he was gone.

So Dean had spoken to Bobby about her. Enough for him to pull a stunt like this. Anya knew what she had to do.

She stuck her key in the ignition and drove off.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean stomped into the motel room and pushed the door behind him. Sam barely caught it before it closed and stepped in.

"Dean-" Sam started but Dean raised his hand.

"Don't start with me, Sam." He snapped.

Sam shut the door and turned to his older brother, giving him the knowing look.

Dean caught it and shook his head.

"Sammy, I'm serious-"

"Oh I know-"

"You know, she still doesn't get it! After all this time she's still clueless-"

"What exactly did you want her to say, Dean?"

"I don't know! An 'I'm sorry' would be nice!-"

"For what? Because she didn't want you to tag along? Are you still mad over something that happened a year ago?"

Dean looked over at his brother angrily, making his frown lines and crow's feet more defined. The hunter's life aged you fast, but on Dean Winchester it didn't look too bad. It made him look a little more distinguished, if anything. John had the same lines in his face the day he died. The old "wear and tear of the business," his father had called it. " _You can't be a beauty queen in this line of work, son,"_ said John Winchester. " _You age quick and kick it young...if you're lucky."_

Of course Sam had a point. Dean wasn't exactly sure why Anya got under his skin. She did it with such quickness and ease, he had no idea how to handle her. That unnerved him more than he was willing to admit.

"Whatever, man." Dean dismissed the conversation and his thoughts as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Look," Sam started, standing in front of him and loosening his tie, "Anya's here now. The least we can do is work this case together. After that, we can go separate ways. Cool?"

Dean took a moment, pondering the choices, but nodded. Sam gave a quick smile and turned to take his clothes off.

He knew that what _really_ pissed him off was the fact that she still got to him. He'd slept with a number of girls since they last spoke. So why was _she_ able to get him riled up? He'll admit that he had an immediate attraction to her, but he'd also had that with many other women who were less stubborn.

His thoughts were halted by a small but sudden knock on the door.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. They both knew the hunting business too well to give anyone any information on where they were lodging. So who could possibly be knocking on their door?

Sam quietly grabbed his pistol on the bed and cautiously walked up to the door,slipping on a t-shirt and tucking the weapon into the back of his jeans. Dean watched his younger brother anxiously, eyeing his gun that was cross on the room on the desk.

Sam grabbed the knob and opened in just a tad to see who it was. There was a moment of silence that almost riled Dean until he heard Sam say her name.

"Anya!"

Dean's body tensed in surprise.

Sam released the knob and stepped back, allowing his old acquaintance to step in.

Anya was wearing the same, dark gray suit that she had had on when he last saw her not too long ago, but her hair was now completely down. Waves of curls gently fell over her face.

Dean blinked.

"Jeez. You guys sure are on edge." Anya smiled awkwardly as she eyed Sam's gun that was known resting in his hand at his side.

"No one was supposed to know we were here." Dean opted in, his voice a little ragged.

Anya finally looked over at him. Her eyes had a softness to them. He sensed that that look was a form a surrender.

"I'm not following you if that's what you think, Winchester."

Dean allowed her a quarter of a smile. She presented him with the same.

"Well how did you know we were here?" Sam inquired.

Anya looked over at him and released air as if coming back to life.

"Well, believe it or not, I'm staying at the same motel. Right down the hall actually. And I figured the chances of someone else have a duplicate Impala were slim to none….. So… I took my chances. I knocked on about 3 doors until I got to this one."

"Well what can we do for you." Dean rested his hands in his pockets.

Anya, aware that she was the reason for his hostility, sighed of defeat.

"I figured I owed you guys an apology." she admitted.

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked over at his brother. He then released his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms.

"Oh really?" he seemed unsure.

Anya rolled her eyes playfully.

"Let's not make this difficult, Winchester."

Dean raised his hands and allowed her to continue.

"You have to understand, I was used to it being Phil or nothing. If I didn't have my dad, I did it alone. That's how he wanted me to be. I guess when you offered to help, I couldn't let go of that. So, I'm sorry for running out on you guys. I guess I didn't want anyone else to get hurt."

"We only wanted to help you." Sam reasoned.

Dean notice Anya's lips twist uncomfortably.

"Yes. I get that. It's just-"

"You wanted to find the bastard on your own." Dean resolved.

Anya face lit up and her chest deflated. Finally, they were on the same level.

"Yes. Exactly." she breathed.

No matter how much he resented her method of leaving, Dean could understand her need to do things her way. He also knew it was in his nature to overthink and overprotect.

They gave one another a look of truce. Finally burying an issue that should've ended a while ago.

Dean, eager to close the gap between them, tried to hide his smile.

"Annnnnnnnndddd…." He coaxed .

Anya sighed exasperatedly and looked over at Sam.

"Dean." Sam reasoned.

"Nah ah. I want the rest. Come on." He playfully beckoned the words from her with his first two fingers and inclined his head slightly, standing his ground and not giving an inch.

Anya fought her smile.

"Fine! I'm sorry for snapping and being mean. You didn't deserve it." she admitted, shutting up abruptly and dipping her head to hide her grin and the new color in her cheeks.

Dean, victorious and relieved, stood straight and flashed a smile.

"Now, say Dean Winchester is the best looking hunter around and he is awesome and a complete bad ass and probably a monster in-"

"Aaaaaalright, Dean! Enough, I'm sure you've made your point," interrupted Sam, chuckling awkwardly.

Anya snorted a laugh.

"I'd rather be snatched by a shapeshifter."

"I can make that happen." Dean challenged.

"Well, I'm glad to see all is well," Sam sighed shutting the door completely and walking past them and over to the desk. He opened his laptop, "Now can we get on the case."

Dean and Anya looked at one another.

Dean nodded and stepped back allowing Anya to pass him.

"So what's the deal here?" she asked leaning over Sam

"Well, it all centers around this house." Sam pointed at an article he had saved to his computer, "So far three men have gone missing," he furrowed his brow and scrolled through the file. "Kenny Harlem and Brad Kinshaw went into the house on September 4th, about a month ago, with friends around 11 o'clock. They never came out."

Anya rested on the arm of the couch and picked up the laptop, looking at the photos of the teenage boys in the article. They couldn't have been older than 17.

"Then we have Carl Nethers, " Sam explained, reaching over to clickt he next article, "He was the current grounds keeper. Went in for a late shift last night, never came home." Sam turned to look at Anya and Dean.

Dean's arms were crossed and eyes focused on the computer screen. Anya straightened up and licked her bottom lip in frustration.

"Well what do we know about the house."

Sam turned to the computer and skimmed the article.

"Ummm we know it was a civil war museum for about 50 years until the first victims went missing."

"What was their reasoning for closing?" Dean asked.

Sam skimmed a little more. He then turned fully toward them.

"Under construction."

Anya and Dean exchanged glances.

"Did you see any constructions going on in the house?" she asked him.

Dean shook his head.

"So we need to talk to the friends, see what they remember about that night." Dean said.

"Also we need to see if we can find any employees of this museum. Maybe they've seen some flickering lights or felt cold spots." Anya added.

"Ok. Sam and I will talk to the friends. Anya, look and see if you can locate an employee. See if they have any insight. We'll back here and get the facts together," Dean ordered.

Anya saluted him, "Aye Aye captain."

She gave Sam a playful wink and headed out the door.

When the door shut, Sam gave Dean a playful smirk.

"What?" Dean huffed, suddenly irritated.

"You know, you could've gone with Anya. I could talk to the friend myself." Sam teased as he tightened his tie.

"Really Sam?" annoyance was visible on Dean's face, but that didn't stop his younger brother from probing him.

"Oh come on. Just admit it! You totally have a thing for Anya." He laughed.

Dean sat on his bed, facing Sam and shook his head.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh really? So you guys don't make goo goo eyes at each other whenever you get the chance? Oh! And let's not forget the blow up you just had at the house. You never get _that_ mad unless… you know." Sam egged his brother on.

"Fine! Alright. I-I'm into her. But that doesn't matter right now." He looked down uneasily as he slipped his shoes back on.

"And why is that?"

After both shoes were on and tied, Dean stood.

"Because. We have more important things to do than to worry about stupid feelings. Besides, I barely know her, man. We just got on talking terms. So if you don't mind, could you get out of your soapbox emotions? We got a case to solve here." He grabbed his jacket and swept past Sam and out the door.

Sam, with a widened smile, followed him out.

Anya pulled up to her destination. She checked her phone to make sure she had the right address. After brief research on her phone, Anya found the most recent employee at the museum. Though she had many to choose from, she chose, Matilda Burns. Matilda had been the only employee to actually smile in her online photo. The customer reviews online also praised that Matilda was the best tour guide to have; which included words like, lively, cheerful, energetic.

Anya totally got that vibe as she looked out her passenger window at Matilda's home. It was a Pepto Bismol pink with pale white windows. The lawn was freshly mowed and a beautiful array of flowers decorated the garden surrounding her porch.

"Welp, here goes nothing." Anya mumbled as she kicked her car door open. Stepping out of the car, her left heel got snagged in a sidewalk crack and she momentarily lost her balance. Boy, she would killed her for jeans and sneakers right now.

Her small heels clicked as she walked through the smooth gray pavement and up to the porch.

She touched the doorbell and waited as it rung pleasantly inside the house.

After a moment, a middle aged, woman answered the door.

"Hello." She greeted with a smile. Though she wasn't nearly that old, wrinkles set on her face as she smiled. She had brown, shoulder length hair with silver streaks.

"Hello ma'am. I am agent Sikes with the FBI. Just wanted to ask you a few questions about the museum where you work." Anya flashed her badge quickly and returned it to her back pocket.

Matilda's smile faltered a bit but she stepped back to let her in.

After she was fully in, Matilda shut the door and walked further into the hallway. Anya followed.

The inside of the home about about a lively as the outside. Plants and paintings filled the hallway. She led Anya to the small living room next to the kitchen. Anya took a seat on the couch while Matilda sat across from her in a chair.

"It's truly such a sad thing… what happened to those boys… and Carl. W-We just hired him." Matilda high pitched voice rang as she touched his hands to her mouth in despair.

Anya scooted towards the edge of the couch and touched her knee in comfort.

"This will only take a moment of your time, Matila. I appreciate you agreeing to speak with me on my impromptu visit."

"Anything to help, dear."

Anya gave her a reassuring smile and retracted her hand.

"Ok, so, how long have you worked for this museum?"

"The Hatty's Plantation Museum? I've worked there… going on….15 years."

"Wow that's a long time."

"I love the job. We get plenty of tourists that want to see old civil war memorabilia. Though, we've always had stiff competition with the other museum downtown, the Ripley Riot museum, we continued to have good business."

"Ripley Riot?" Anya inquired.

Matilda nodded.

"It's a museum dedicated to the Ripley Riot. One of the biggest slave rebellions during that era. All lead by Leroy Ripley."

"Ahhh I see. Well, do you remember seeing anything strange in the days that led up to the missing teens?"

Matilda looked at Anya questioningly. Anya simplified her question.

"Any… flickering lights or cold spots in the house…?" she coached.

Matilda looked up in thought.

"Not that I can remember. I mean, if there were I probably didn't even notice. The days leading up to that tragedy were pretty busy days. We added a new piece to our museum. A pendant necklace that had been worn by Ms. Elizabeth Hatty was on display at the Ripley Riot museum. After some coaxing, the owners of the museum decided that it was much better off at our museum, since it was Ms. Hatty's original home and all."

"Wow, so the necklace was moved to your museum and days later, the teens go missing?"

Matilda nodded. Her face screwed into curiosity as she had never put the two facts together before.

Anya took a moment to think.

"Ms. Burns, I'm a history buff myself, could you tell me about Elizabeth Hatty?"

"Well, she was the daughter of Isaac Hatty, the plantation owner. He was a huge cotton farmer. Had over 100 slaves on that land. That's actually where the rebellion started. Leroy was one of Isaac Hattty's slaves. Not much is known about Elizabeth. I do know that she died alone, in that house. Poor girl never found true love, I guess."

"Ms. Burns, where is Elizabeth buried?"

Matilda eyes Anya suspiciously.

"She wasn't buried. She was cremated."

Damn.

Anya, itching to relay the information, stood abruptly.

"Thank you for your time Ms. Burns. I'll let you know if I have any more questions."

Matilda stood as well and nodded.

As Anya saw herself out, she pulled out her cell.

Crap. She had forgotten to get Dean or Sam's cellphone number.

She dialed Bobby's number instead.

"Hello?"

"Bobby I need Deans number." Anya said with haste as she shuffled into her car.

"How is it you are calling me for his number when you're working a case with him?"

"Oh Bobby, I just _live_ to annoy you. Dean's number, please."

"Fine. 467-879-2675. Try not to kill one another will ya?"

Anya started her car.

"Didn't you hear Bobby? Dean and I called a truce." She said with mock excitement.

"Yeah? And how long will that last?"

"We'll see. Anyways I'll call you about the case later. Got some info I need to share."

"Don't die."

"Wouldn't dream of it." she hung up and immediately dialed Dean's number.

It rang once.

"What did you find out?" he answered with ease.

Anya paused.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked suspiciously.

"I was hoping it was." He replied coolly.

She tensed as her stomach flipped.

"Well… I got some things to share."

"Great, so do we. Meet you back at the motel."

The line went dead almost immediately.

"Huh," Anya stared at the phone for a moment, started her car, and drove off.


End file.
